


Riding Shiva

by Caladenia



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angry Chakotay, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Reckless Janeway, Reference to Episode: s05e10 Counterpoint, There is a bit of science if you squint hard enough, supernova
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caladenia/pseuds/Caladenia
Summary: The astronomical event of the millennium could be an omen for better things to come, but only if one knows how to read the signs.AU, a couple of weeks after Counterpoint.





	1. Shiva exposed

* * *

**Shiva exposed**

“…and I estimate the explosion will happen in less than a week. There’s been a significant increase in the binary stars’ angular velocity over the past twenty-four hours, a sure sign that they’ll collapse very soon,” Seven told the senior officers gathered in the briefing room.

The wall screen showed a small planetary nebula, a mist of blood-coloured gases with two white dwarf stars spinning around each other at its centre, the ancient remnants of giant suns long ago stripped of their outer gas layers. An interesting spatial anomaly, but Chakotay was only half-listening.

The captain leaned over the table, her hands supporting her chin. No doubt she was looking for a distraction to break the monotony of her days since the Devore inspector had exited _Voyager_.

His heart missed a beat. What she had done…

He did understand opting for recklessness in the face of immediate danger, or the need for personal sacrifice when the circumstances demanded it. Under the punishing Devore inspections, one wrong move from the captain’s part and the whole masquerade would have collapsed. The telepaths she had sworn to protect would have been sent to their death under the Imperium’s xenophobic laws, the crew thrown in one of its many detention centres, the ship confiscated.

But in a virtuoso check-mate game, the captain had succeeded despite the odds, forcing the leather-clad inspector off the ship, tail between his legs. Yet, what she had done was as alien to him as Kashyk’s dark poise and sneer. He had no name for her actions.

Janeway would most probably call them calculated risks. How very scientific of her. Was it the game of probabilities and counter-solutions that had attracted her in the first place, or had it been the pull of the dark and dangerous inspector?

Chakotay had to hand it to the captain. The skills she had flaunted had been impressive, the bridge dripping with innuendos, badly hidden leers and enough pheromones in the air to compete with an entire floor of over-sexed first-year cadets. Trust Janeway to keep it up for as long as was needed, until she’d lured the man to his fate. She was the one who was dangerous. Irresponsible. Heedless of her first officer’s advice.

One thing was certain: the feelings he once harboured for the captain were now more remembrance of things past than actual sentiments. He had discarded the emotional burden of loving Kathryn Janeway, turned the page over what could have been, and that was fine by him.

The wall display changed, bringing him back to the presentation with a jolt.

Seven droned on. “The smaller star is rotating faster than its companion, creating a deep gravity well. This will cause a shaft of hot fluids originating within the larger star to expand outwards, drawn by the unescapable pull of its partner. The pulsing shaft will slowly penetrate the smaller star’s outer surface before plunging straight into its core.”

Chakotay felt the corner of his mouth curve upwards by itself.

“Now joined together, the stars will start to pulsate in unison, displaying slow-paced and long-wave oscillations at first. That phase will last for quite some time, before degenerating into a rapid and asynchronous rush of energy between the two stars which will eventually tear them apart.”

The room had grown still. Harry’s face was a dark pink, a shade Chakotay had never seen on him, while Neelix’ eyes were ready to pop out his head.

Seven continued, seemingly unaware of the rising attention to her words. “The ensuing explosion will release a prodigious amount of energy across all bandwidths, including sound waves although this remains speculative. The climax will persist over several weeks, a mere moment though, compared with the length of time the two stars have circled each other.”

B’Elanna stared straight through the bulkhead, focused on something on the other side of the galaxy. Tom was about the only one in the room enjoying himself quite openly. He was smirking.

The captain’s jaw muscles played under the skin. She was probably thinking of calling a red alert, her senior officers fast losing control. Instead, she put on a feigned smile. “Thank you, Seven. Your presentation was quite…instructive.”

“There’s more, Captain,” the former Borg said, hands behind her back.

Tom chuckled, and B’Elanna shoved an elbow in his ribs. The captain let out a small sigh before turning back to Seven. “Yes?”

“Icheb wishes to know if he could name the new star. I believe it is a Federation’s tradition for the discoverer to name astronomical events such as this one.”

It was another step in Icheb’s integration with _Voyager_ ’s crew and by extension, Federation culture. Chakotay liked the idea.

“Of course,” said Janeway, nodding her agreement. “What name has he chosen?”

“Shiva, the god of destruction from one of Earth’s great religions. He thought it was an appropriate description of the phenomenon.”

Chakotay refrained a snort. Very apt indeed. If he remembered well a lecture at the academy on comparative religions, Shiva’s symbolic form, the lingam, did not leave much to the imagination if one was so inclined.

Janeway stood. “Shiva it is, from now on. Is that all?”

“I would like to run a few more simulations, Captain,” Seven said. “I believe I can pinpoint the exact time of the clima—.”

Tom lost himself in a flurry of coughs.

“An excellent idea. You are dismissed, Seven.” Janeway waited for the door to slide shut behind the young woman. She placed her hands flat on the table. “One more snigger from any of you, and you’ll all spend the next shift cleaning the engine manifolds with a toothbrush. Is that understood?”

A murmur of assent sounded through the room. She sat back in her chair. “B’Elanna, will the ship handle the increased radiation levels?”

“We’ll need to make changes to the shield harmonics, and—”

Reigning in his meandering thoughts, Chakotay focused on the technical details of the job at hand.

⁂

“Commander, was there something else?”

For all their estrangement, she could still sense when Chakotay was in the same room without having to look around, a skill borne from long years of sharing command, if nothing else anymore.

“They need to be told,” Chakotay said in a voice which was neither supportive nor gentle.

The other officers had left ahead of him, keen to start the modifications she’d decided on. He had nearly made it to the door of the briefing room, but had turned back, apparently unable to quell his alarm any longer.

“Oh, I think Tom knows,” Janeway conceded. Her hand touched the tempered transparent aluminium as she faced the nebula rendered a broiling mass of darkness by the window’s depolarising filters.

Footsteps echoed behind her, and Chakotay came to a halt four feet from her, his body turned towards the show outside. The distance between them had widened in the past few weeks. He was no longer standing so close that she could feel his breath raising the small hair at the back of her neck. That if she was to lean back, his chest would be there for her to rest against. Her hand never found him anymore.

She missed that contact she had taken for granted for so long. Those stolen touches were now gone. In the same way she’d instigated most of them, she’d been the one to stop lest they pulled her in a direction she couldn’t, wouldn’t, contemplate.

After five years in space, she could have kicked the Starfleet fraternisation protocols out of the airlock any time if she’d really wanted to. Those rules had never been meant for a lone captain, seventy-five thousand degrees of separation from Starfleet command. But she didn’t know how not to be alone anymore.

“You’re right about Tom, he knows. He’s a pilot and this,” Chakotay pointed to the nebula, “will be the ultimate piloting experience.”

“How did you guess?” Janeway asked. She tore herself from the view port and faced him when he didn’t answer.

Maybe she had become partial to the moat and impenetrable walls she’d built around herself. It was more a prison than a castle, but apart was safer than too close. Chakotay had obviously arrived at the same conclusion.

The gloomy nebula pitched his profile into silent shadows, bringing to the fore the deep lines on his brow merging into his tattoo. She traced his aquiline nose, the full lips set into a rigid line, the strong jaw toughened by long years of fighting and pain. The Maquis leader she had been bent on pursuing, the angry warrior who had appeared on her bridge all those years ago had not looked that hard-edged, that…cold.

Her gaze shifted back to the nebula. It wasn’t difficult to feel his concern for what she had in mind. His concern for the crew. For the ship.

Not for her though. Because the man who had once sworn to lighten her burden was no longer by her side, and she had no idea how to make their bond right again. Make them both right again. It was a colossal task she didn’t have the strength to face any more.

“How did you know?” she repeated.

“The additional safety protocols,” he said, not moving from his spot. “You asked for more than normal safeguard measures for a ship that should stay a few light-days away from a supernova. You want _Voyager_ to go through that cli…that explosion.”

She lifted her chin sharply. “I am not that irresponsible, Chakotay. We will maintain a safe distance at all times. But think about it,” she said, her hands open. “This galaxy hasn’t seen a supernova of that type since Kepler. That was almost eight hundred years ago, and nobody has ever been right there, at the birth of a new star, at the start of it all.”

Waving at the marvel outside, she moved closer to him. “Observing from far away won’t do. Don’t you see how momentous this event is? Our findings could re-write astrophysics, settle years of scientific arguments and theories on the age of the universe and the fate of galaxies.”

He kept his silence, still not looking at her. Once upon a time, he had been as eager as she was to explore what the Delta quadrant had to offer. His skill set and knowledge were different from hers, but he had always encouraged her thirst for exploration. Not any longer. One more spatial anomaly to add to her quiver did not make him smile, did not reach him any longer.

“Don’t you agree?” she whispered, hating herself for sounding like she was pleading.

An air of surprise fleeted over his face before he looked down on her and gave her the full benefit of his sneer. “Are you asking for my approval, Captain?”

She lowered her gaze. Sarcasm did not suit him.

“Because it hasn’t seemed to matter to you that you’ve disregarded my advice more often than not lately. I take one step in your direction and you sidle away, too busy with the newest attraction to cross your path to listen to your first officer.”

Her cheeks stung under the semi-veiled insult. The last thread of professional friendship between them had stretched taut until the Devore incident had cut through it with the callousness of a photon torpedo. She had left him totally in the dark as to her plan about the inspector. She had not wanted his presence to distract her, to stop her from what she had set herself to do. No wonder he now felt redundant, replaceable, and who was she to blame him for pulling away.

“Chakotay—"

“I neither agree nor disagree. You’re the captain.” His tone moved into scorn. “If you so want to ride Shiva, that is your privilege.”

Pain stabbed at her chest. She turned away, her shoulders locked.

Chakotay left the room without waiting for her dismissal.

⁂

The door of her quarters closed behind Kathryn with a soft hiss. Making her way to the bedroom, she kicked off her boots and threw the jacket on the couch.

Seven had narrowed the time of the supernova explosion to early morning the following day. _Voyager_ had been flying in a large arc around the two colliding stars for five days, and now all was set to witness and record the spectacle of a lifetime.

Kathryn sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers rubbing her feet sore from standing for hours in Engineering or Astrometrics.

A dance. That’s what she had glimpsed on the console screen when Seven had first brought her the news Icheb had discovered something wondrous. A dance—skilled, controlled, fast. Oh, so fast. An extravagant and frenetic dance it was, the partners well matched in their determination and talent. And they were close, so very close it was difficult to tell the two apart as they spun madly, energy leaping between them and blinding their audience. From the minute she’d seen the vision on the screen, she had felt drawn to these dancers so intent on each other and oblivious to all around them.

Now, the elation and wonder that had sustained her over the past few days were fast fading away. She could only watch the stars for so long before sadness and hopelessness overwhelmed her at the wanton destruction that was to come.

The eon-old partners were unable to let go of each other, the bond between them strengthened with each revolution. They would soon unite, but only for a fraction of time before their ultimate annihilation. Then there would be a rebirth and that was what everybody on the ship was getting so giddy about. But for now, the evening before the event, Kathryn mourned the passing of the two dancers.

She let herself fall against the mattress, not bothering to take off the rest of her uniform. Memories of other waltzes leaked into her mind as fatigue lulled her body into a semblance of rest.

How many times had she, the captain, taken the lead and danced with powerful aliens until she made sure they would honour their promises of supplies, information, safe passage, whatever _Voyager_ needed most? How many times had she looked up into her partner’s eyes, thanked them—often, but not always a him—before bowing an adieu and leaving, never to see them again?

Some of those dances had been fun. The steps well-rehearsed, the outcomes mutually understood from the start, she had relaxed in the hands of skilful partners. If truth be told, she had enjoyed the easy-going company, the suggestive words whispered in the ear, the discrete flirting. What was diplomacy if not the art of seduction?

At a more basic level, but equally craved, she’d also savoured the physical contact with another body, a hand warming the small of her back, fingers clasping hers, strong hips leading. On rare occasions, the dance had led to more for a few precious hours stolen from her responsibilities. As long as there were no strings attached, no repercussions for _Voyager_ ’s reputation, she had enjoyed those occasional nights in someone else’s bed. She wasn’t made of steel and tritanium after all, and for a few days afterwards, her body hummed and glowed.

Those moments were fleeting. She couldn’t afford lengthy distractions from her duty to ship and crew. The bare and ugly truth she had grasped during the weeks following her return from New Earth was that she didn’t have the strength of character to be more than the captain. It was a failing she regretted but had come to accept after finding herself too many nights standing in the corridor, her hand an inch away from ringing the chime to Chakotay's quarters.

With the ever-lasting travel she had forced onto her crew, there was no point in pretending she could be both the captain and Kathryn. Whoever had written those fraternisation protocols, which predated Starfleet by centuries, had been wise. It was damn hard enough to be the captain, day-in, day-out, without adding the complications of a long-term relationship. So, she had left that dream behind, along with a bunch of tomatoes and a handmade bathtub.

She tossed and turned, the brooding glare from the twin stars seeping through the bedroom window. Who was she kidding? Her resolution had left her yearning for flesh-to-flesh contact, for a body to warm her nights. And when months had turned into years, she had gone from obsession with protocol to blatant carelessness, just because she could. With alien encounters merging into one another, she had become as extreme as those stellar dancers, and as insensitive to the consequences of her conduct.

Closing her eyes, she brought her fingers to her lips, the shadow of that hungry kiss in the shuttle bay just about gone. It was almost a fortnight now, but she still couldn’t deal with what had happened during those few days before Kashyk had disappeared for good.

They’d danced. Danced to Mahler on the bridge. Danced in the ready room. In his quarters. That’s what they’d done, and nothing more. Danced with words and barely hidden stares. It could have ended very badly for all, but had she really cared? Or had she become the victim of her own hubris in thinking that, with Kashyk gone, she would fly away whole and untouched once again, her name intact, a stolen kiss from the dark-haired alien man her only transgression?

She’d sensed Chakotay’s searing eyes when the inspector swaggered around her. Heard his loud silence after they’d left Devore space. Glimpsed his smirk during Seven's presentation. Felt the chill of his absence even as he stood close by. His crude insinuation just before leaving the briefing room had made her recoil in humiliation.

Wiping her eyes, she let weariness clamber over her. Five hectic days and nights preparing _Voyager_ for the event of the millennium was taking its toll. Surely, that was all that was wrong with her. **  
**


	2. Riding Shiva

**Riding Shiva**

Shields on maximum, _Voyager_ rode the face of the shock wave, an insignificant speck of hardened metal pushed and hurried by a sphere of energy already growing at a sizeable fraction of the speed of light. Energy flew around the hull in long-fingered sheets of light and radiation, temperatures soaring to billions of kelvins. The ship screamed and surged ahead, caught in a firestorm the like of which nobody on the tiny inhabited craft had ever experienced.

Chakotay could not take his eyes off the main screen. Probes launched parallel to the ship’s course and the sensors flickering under the conflagration provided the only means of navigation. At such close quarters, it was clear that the explosion was uneven, agitated froth of matter and energy bursting around the ship, with small gaps of calmer conditions found in between, soon to be erased by another burst of particles and fire.

The captain kept the ship close to those minute quiescent places, unstable as they were. The bio-neural packs were deciphering the sensor output at a phenomenal rate, the data re-routed to her console. She used the information to give _Voyager_ ’s pilot a few seconds’ notice of the track ahead, keeping the ship clear of the denser and hotter regions.

Tom handled the helm with finely trained reflexes, hands moving across his console as if independently from his thinking. The only words heard on the bridge were changes in direction and speed, and curt acknowledgements between the captain and the pilot. Everybody else kept to their own counsel, monitoring and observing, but unable to act.

Hours passed while destruction roared outside the hull. Chakotay watched the feed of the sole remaining probe, tracking the blue ice-like sliver of the ship among the yellows, whites and reds of the titanic explosion surging all around it. The immense vertical energy wall looked close to crushing the ship, only for _Voyager_ to emerge time and time again ahead of the main breaker. It was as if the ship itself was courting the devastation roaring behind it, and yet certain that it would master the danger baying at its heels.

As if _Voyager_ itself was alive for the first time.

Chakotay gripped the arms of his chair, the riotous ride sweeping him over the edge of his doubts and concerns. His hand brushed Janeway’s. He glanced up at her, and he knew then where he’d seen the same shade of icy blue before, a sight of pure grit and determination against hell incarnate. But her smile was as broad as the sky, and his heart, which he had made hard and unyielding since the Devore episode, pounded a little bit faster. For a few seconds, he forgot the scene outside and held her gaze, wide and wild, before a bump in the ride made them both turn away and back to their respective consoles.

Tom flew the ship as it had never been flown, a feat of skill and precision that went on until Chakotay relieved the exhausted pilot. The first officer dared not talk to the captain who was oblivious of food or rest. A thin film of perspiration shining on her forehead, her gaze flicked from the console at her side to the main screen, and back again, never still.

Chakotay was not as skilled a pilot as Paris. Hounding energy and gravitational waves pummelled the ship, causing the hull to ripple and vibrate, the tremors transmitted to the interior structure. _Voyager_ groaned and shuddered under the added strain. Converted into a jaw-clenching infrasound, the throbbing of the bulkheads became relentless and unescapable. The crew endured until the impulse engines themselves started to waver, and the ship slowed dangerously close to the avalanche pursuing it.

Only then did the captain relent. _Voyager_ went to warp, settling half a light-day away from the edge of the ongoing eruption. Within the ship, the noise abated. The soothing hum of the ship’s drives replaced the wild ride, and bone-deep fatigue settled on the crew. They’d flown the face of the supernova for eighteen hours straight and had gathered enough data to keep three generations of astrophysicists happy.

After receiving a provisional all-clear report from the Chief Engineer, Janeway took over the ship-wide comms, thanking all on board for their hard work. She ordered everybody, except for a small caretaker team, to get some well-deserved rest. In a daze, the bridge crew stumbled off, exchanging a few muted words of congratulations for making history and remaining alive to tell the tale. Still seated at the helm, Chakotay turned around, his heart yet to quieten down.

The captain had not moved from her command chair. The smile she gave him could compete with the new star outside. “We did it, Chakotay. We did it.”

He couldn’t help but respond to his own elation. “You were right,” he said, happy to acknowledge her moment of triumph. “It was worth it. And I hope to see more of it.”

She was now beaming, the same glow she had so often shared with him. “I am glad you think so,” she said. “Although I’m not sure how we can surpass what we’ve just gone through today.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the supernova,” he let slip, still basking in her guileless joy. This was the woman he had longed for, once upon a time. The woman who used to fill the hours of his days with more than just ship tasks and duty to the crew. The woman who had made him feel the journey home meant so much more than seventy-five years of mindless grind.

Her smile faltered. “I don’t understand.”

He shrunk away. Of course, she didn’t understand. Not anymore. Her smile wasn’t for him after all. She was addicted to the brightest of stars, hurtling herself at this one, that one, before they vanished behind the stern of the ship. How long before the next temptation would draw her into its embrace?

The caretaker crew entered the bridge, saving him from a half-mumbled explanation. Janeway relinquished her seat to the relief officer. Chakotay stood too, feeling the cricks in his spine.

They entered the turbolift together.

“Deck three,” he said.

“Deck eight,” she added, her voice laced with exhaustion.

“Captain?”

He regretted the sense of concern seeping through that one word as soon as it left his lips, blaming it on the remaining endorphins flooding his body after what they’d just accomplished. So, he didn’t insist she needed to rest too, didn’t accompany her to her quarters, his hand close to the small of her back, didn’t program her replicator for a hearty bowl of soup, didn’t sit with her so he would be sure she would eat. If she had made up her mind to go to Astrometrics, nothing he would say was going to stop her.

Her fingers stopped massaging her neck as if she was surprised he was still interested in her well-being, as vague and brief his worry had sounded in the small space of the turbolift. She gave a small nod of acknowledgement. “I won’t be long. There’s much to do over the next few days. I want to see what Seven and Icheb have found so far, so we can start planning our next steps tomorrow.”

The captain was no former Borg drone, able to work for days and nights on end. “The supernova will still be there in the morning,” Chakotay said reluctantly, as the turbolift alighted on Deck three.

He was still _Voyager_ ’s first officer. He still had duties to the ship and crew, and ultimately to his captain. And though he hadn’t never realised before now how a duty-only path could be a hard and solitary one when there was nothing else to look for, she had left him no choice than to embark on it.

She didn’t seem to notice his disapproval, or preferred to ignore it. “Once we are back on our journey, we’ll be moving so much faster than the shock front, the new star will disappear behind us as if it never happened. I want to make the most of it now.”

Her response didn't surprise him. If she wanted to go on riding Shiva for a few more days, she was welcome to it. He stepped in the corridor to his quarters without glancing back. All he could think about right now was a quick shower and his bed.

He saw very little of the captain over the next three days. He sat on the bridge coordinating the repairs as malfunctions spread through the ship. And while the captain was ensconced in Astrometrics, the star shining outside pulled at him, untamed and irresistible.

**⁂**

“Icheb?”

The young man stared with a blank look. “I’m sorry, Captain. Could you repeat your order?”

Janeway quickly moved beside the young man and held him up as his body tottered. “How long since you regenerated?” she asked.

“Three days and seventeen hours.”

“You’ve missed two regeneration cycles,” Seven said from the console across the Astrometrics room.

“Much too long,” Janeway said. “What about you, Seven?”

“I will be able to function adequately for a further four hours.”

“No, that won’t do. Icheb, Seven, return to the cargo bay and program an extended regeneration cycle for the both of you.”

“I will stay to assist you while Icheb regenerates,” Seven said.

Janeway faced the woman. “I appreciate and admire your enthusiasm, but you do need to rest. I don’t want to see either of you until oh nine hundred hours tomorrow morning.”

Seven nodded curtly and left with Icheb. Once the door closed behind them, Kathryn turned back to the main console screen where equations and numbers competed for her attention. One more day left to observe the nova, and she would have to give the order for the ship to move away and resume its course home. She was running out of time.

By jumping back and forth a few light-minutes at a time from the ever-growing gigantic ball of energy, they had been able to collect even more data on the birth of the new star. There was so much more that could be achieved though, if she could divert more power to the sensor array. With a shake of the head to clear her fatigue away, she unscrewed the panel under the primary Astrometrics console and got to work.

~ _Chakotay to Janeway._ ~

She hit her combadge. She’d specifically asked not to be disturbed unless the matter was urgent. “Janeway here.”

~ _Captain, you wanted me to appraise you of the problems with Engineering._ ~

Had she? She couldn’t remember. “Go ahead, Commander.”

~ _B’Elanna is concerned the shields are fluctuating. The power drain from the warp core engines I mentioned yesterday is also increasing.~_

Janeway blew through her teeth. The ship could not afford to lose the shields so close to the supernova, and that power drain was getting bothersome. “Is the ship in any immediate danger?”

_~No, Captain. Nothing engineering can’t handle, of course.~_

Did she detect a hint of sarcasm in his voice? Damn the man. She was only asking for one more day. “Then, I am leaving those issues in your capable hands. Janew—”

The ship shuddered. She didn’t wait for a status report as the rolling tremors underneath her feet continued to shake the ship. “Red alert. Move us away from the supernova, Commander. I’m on my way to the bridge.”

Chakotay’s response came out garbled as the ship listed. Running out of Astrometrics, Janeway fell hard against the opposite wall in the corridor. She recovered, making her way towards the nearest turbolift, the emergency red lighting her way. “Bridge,” she said as she entered the turbolift. The bulkhead in front of her threatened to become the floor. Taking the Jefferies tube would have been safer, but would have taken too long.

Mayhem reigned on the bridge. Tom was frantically attempting to regain control of the helm, Chakotay barked orders to Engineering, while Tuvok listed the systems going down one by one. Holding on to the rails, Janeway reached her command chair and half sat down, half fell in.

She glanced up at the screen and immediately regretted it. With the nova behind them, the stars ahead were sliding off the screen at an alarming angle. Fighting what her eyes were telling her gave rise to a stomach-churning nausea. It couldn’t be the universe which was spinning in front of her. It had to be the ship rolling on its axis. _Voyager_ was listing starboard, everything inside it forcefully shifting too. That meant only one thing: the anti-roll dampeners were offline. It was going to be chaos on the ship if it didn’t right itself very soon.

“Tom, compensate,” she shouted. Objects fell off consoles and rolled along the sloping bridge floor.

“Attempting, Captain. The hem’s sluggish.”

EPS conduits above head hissed as the angular inertia pushed them to their limits. Janeway kept her eyes on the middle console, watching alarms flash up and down the ship, from Engineering to sickbay, living quarters, corridors, mess hall. Even during an alien attack, she’d never seen so many areas affected so quickly. Anything loose was behaving like a wrecking ball, crashing into people and equipment as the deck floors morphed into walls, and the walls climbed into the ceilings.

“Janeway to Engineering. B’Elanna, re-route power from the front deflector shield to the dampeners. Keep the stern shield to maximum.”

Her elbow slipped off the armrest, her body following the listing of the ship. She flinched as Chakotay grabbed her left arm, keeping her from falling off the chair.

_~The deflector shield controls are not responding from here. I’ll send somebody to do it manually.~_

“We don’t have the time. I’ll go. Chakotay, you’ve got the bridge.”

She pushed herself up, but Chakotay was already on his feet, pressing her back down, his fingers tightening around her arm. “No, you won’t,” he hissed, his gaze hard.

B’Elanna’s relieved voice filled the bridge. _~Dampeners are back online, Captain.~_ Ever so slowly the ship corrected itself, and the stars outside stopped moving.

Chakotay let go of Janeway and sat back down. He tapped his console. “Front deflector shield down forty-five per cent, back shield holding.”

She swallowed the waves of anger threatening to swamp her. “Dampeners?”

“Holding.”

“Tuvok?”

“Damage had been reported on all decks. Injury reports are coming in. Nothing more than broken bones so far.”

“Mr Paris, how’s the helm behaving?”

“Like it should, Captain. But that was a bit too close for comfort, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“You are right, Tom. We might have overstayed our welcome. B’Elanna, have we got warp speed?”

_~I can’t give you more than warp four for now. Still working on the engines.~_

“I’ll take what you’ve got. Tom, plot a course for the nearest uninhabited planetary system, and engage when ready, warp four. We’ll finish the repairs once in orbit. Tuvok, you’ve got the bridge. Commander, in my ready room.”

**⁂**

She spun around as soon as he entered the room, not even waiting for the door to close behind him. “What was all that about, Commander?” Black dots jumped in her vision, and she gripped the edge of the table to avoid falling over.

“The auxiliary deflector controls are on Deck six. You wouldn’t have been able to reach them if the ship had decided to roll for good.”

“I know perfectly well where the controls are located, and that’s exactly why I was going. Better me than an engineering crew member.”

“You haven’t left Astrometrics for days, and you can hardly stand.”

“Is that a medical opinion?”

“I don’t need to be a doctor to know that. I am your first officer.”

“And that gives you the right to counter-command me?”

“Maybe I would not need to if you were thinking about the safety of the crew, instead of throwing yourself at whatever takes your fancy.”

She managed a smirk. “Are we really talking about what just happened, Chakotay? Or am I detecting something else?”

“Don’t make this about me, Captain,” he growled in response. “I had to relieve Kim this morning. He was dead on his feet helping B’Elanna. She’s had to do the same to half of her team. It’s only because of them that the ship is not in a worse state. If you want to have some fun, be my guest. You obviously can’t help yourself. But don’t drag the crew with you.”

“I would never…” She looked around, a feeling of sickness spreading through her body.

_~Neelix to the Captain~_

“What is it?” Then she pictured the Talaxian in his kitchen while the ship was rolling over. Her hand came up to her throat at the thought of the injuries he might have suffered. “Are you all right?”

_~A few scratches only. I was in my quarters when the ship decided to move around so strangely. However, I can’t say the same for the mess hall. It will take at least a day to make it operational again.~_

She sighed from relief. “Understood. I’ll make an announcement shortly that it will be food replicators only until further notice.”

_~Thank you captain. But there’s another reason why I wanted to contact you.~_

“Go ahead.” Chakotay had not moved, and if she ignored him, maybe he and his accusations would just disappear. She was just too drained to continue their argument. If it was still an argument.

 _~As you said yourself, it’s not often that one attends the birth of a supernova, so I’ve been thinking that we should celebrate once the repairs are done.~_ Neelix added with some haste, _~Something classy of course_. _Tasteful._ ~

Chakotay smirked, before turning away. “Classy,” she heard him snort.

She’d been ready to refuse Neelix’ suggestion, but Chakotay’s contempt spurred her on. “Permission granted. Janeway out.”

Given Neelix’ definition of taste, she was not expecting much, but the crew did deserve a break. It was not just the latest ship incident, or the supernova, but the Devore before that and whatever before that again. It has been a long few weeks and months for the crew. Years really.

Chakotay’s wide back and shoulders were now facing her. Whatever she was doing, whatever the decision she was making, she was still in the wrong according to him.

Well, she’d had enough of his dismissive attitude and gloomy disposition. Unless she wanted the journey back home to drag for seven hundred years instead of a mere lifetime, she wasn’t going to let him, or a couple of stray dampeners, ruin their achievement. The crew had done a marvellous job, and it was time to celebrate, Chakotay be damned.


	3. Shiva ascending

“Oh no, Tuvok. This is the one party you will not spend on the bridge. And besides, you look extremely handsome in that tuxedo. Anybody with a modicum of good taste will be very impressed.”

“I would much prefer to ‘impress’ the crew, as you put it, in my usual role.” He glanced down as Janeway gave his black bowtie a last tweak.

“Humour me, please, but I tell you what. I’ll dance with you and then you can leave. Just don’t expect it to be my first dance.”

He looked at the wall above her head. “As you wish, Captain.”

She could not resist a smile, and patted him on the chest. “I hope you are a good dancer. This is not a Vulcan social event.”

“Early in my Starfleet career, my wife insisted I learn the more common steps. She knows the propensity of Terrans in engaging in such recreational exercises.”

Kathryn let out a laugh. “A wise woman. Let’s go.”

He offered his arm, not commenting on the absence of her first officer at her side. She had not expected less of Chakotay, and, to be honest, Tuvok did cut a rather striking figure in his white dinner jacket. Maybe she was too used to seeing him and the rest of her crew in uniform.

They’d left Shiva behind for good, and the ship was due to head back on course to the Alpha quadrant the following morning. She would have preferred to leave the crew, and herself, more time to recuperate, but Neelix had insisted it was good auspice to start the long journey home on a bright note. The whole crew had been invited to the black and white ball, Neelix’ idea after watching too many of Tom’s 1940s B&W movies no doubt. The event of the millennium demanded class, so it seemed. She had left the whole affair to him, too busy helping B’Elanna with the repairs and catching on some sleep.

As much as she wanted the crew to enjoy themselves, it wasn’t all bright and cheery for her. She couldn’t help thinking the black fog of her relationship with her first officer was shrouding her enthusiasm for the event, like a cloud of murky gases passing over a star, leaving her floundering in the darkness.

She paused at the entrance of the holodeck. It was filling fast, the background music provided by a dance orchestra occupying the back wall, the crowd milling about, everybody in their best dress. Small tables framed the dance floor, and Kathryn took the time to say a few words to crew members as she made her way through the room. Conversations drifted towards her, the excitement of all present palpable.

‘What a great idea. I’m so glad we are doing this.’

‘I wasn’t expecting something so stylish. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn something else than my work uniform.’

‘You look fabulous, Sam. Care for a dance later?’

‘My pleasure, Joe.’

By the time Kathryn reached the podium, her mood had lifted. Barring attacks, lack of resources and supernovas, they really should do this sort of things more often, she decided. It was good for the crew, and a happy crew made a happy captain, so the saying went.

“May I have your attention?” she said to the crowd which turned to face her. “Thank you all for coming to the Ball of the Millennium. Please give a round of applause to Neelix for organising all this. He has surpassed himself.”

Standing close the podium, Neelix shifted on his feet, a wide smile on his face. His white checkered suit sat awkwardly on his rotund figure, a welcome change from his everyday vividly coloured jacket.

“As you know, we have left Shiva behind us, and its light will no longer guide the ship onwards. As we plunge faster towards home, only this crew will know of its birth in an empty recess of the Delta quadrant. My thanks go to Icheb who discovered it, and all of you who help make this discovery into a truly monumental event. Please stand for a toast.”

There was a short clatter as chairs were pushed back and everybody stood, smiles on their faces.

She lifted the flute she had grabbed on the way to the small stage. “To _Voyager_ and its gallant crew,” she said with a proud smile. “To all of us.”

“To all of us,” came the united response of the one hundred and forty people surrounding her.

Kathryn was going to say a few more words when she saw Chakotay at the back of the room, half hidden by people standing in front of him. His head was tilted towards Seven, probably explaining the meaning of a toast to her. Not since the Hirogen World War II scenario disaster, had Janeway seen Seven out of her catsuit. With her hair cascading down her bare back and the shimmering white dress hugging her statuesque form, the young woman looked stunning.

Not seeking to question the pang of pain in her chest, Kathryn stepped down from the podium. People kept approaching her, and their warmth and excitement soon distracted her until the music started and several offers to dance helped her push Chakotay out of her mind.

Neelix was his usual excited-self, but Kathryn could hardly refuse him. Carey proved himself to be a more cautious partner. She let him go when the music changed again. Finding an empty table, she observed the lively crowd while sipping on a glass of synthehol. Sam and Carey passed in front of her, the young woman’s head resting on Joe’s shoulder. They made a good couple, she thought idly.

“Care for this dance, Captain?”

She lifted her head to see Tom standing close. “With pleasure.”

Accepting the proffered hand, she carefully rose from her chair, her dress not allowing much room to manoeuvre. There was something to be said for wearing trousers during day time, but for this occasion she had chosen a long black dress which was not too unflattering she hoped. Surrounded by people mostly younger than her, she hadn’t wanted to feel completely out their league, although there wasn’t anybody of import to her who would care to notice.

The music was nice and slow, and she unwound in the hands of the tall blond man. It was only for one evening. One evening to celebrate. She could as well enjoy it.

Tom whispered in her ear, “I’m sure every man in the room has already complimented you, but let me say that you look lovely this evening, Captain.”

She chuckled. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Tom. But I’d like to return the compliment. Had B’Elanna something to do with choosing your suit?”

“Oh, that?” he said with a self-deprecating smirk. “Just a little something I found in the back of my wardrobe.”

The double-breasted jacket and dark shirt enhanced his tall stature and good looks. Add a winning smile and it was difficult to resist him, and he knew that. She discreetly moved his hand back to the small of her back when it strayed too low for comfort.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he said.

“Are you?” she asked, one eyebrow rising.

He laughed. “Not at all.”

He was exactly what she needed. Confident, attentive, light on his feet, and more to the point knowing when to let the music flow around them without needing to make small talk.

As they moved smoothly across the dance floor, a raised voice close by caught her attention. Seven was standing stock-still, her open-backed dress sitting awkwardly on her. “I do not see the point of dancing, Commander.”

“As the Doctor explained, dancing doesn’t have to have a purpose. It’s just meant to be enjoyed, a way to relax after a few hard weeks. Nothing more.”

“I do not need to relax either.”

“Obviously not.” Although Kathryn couldn’t see Chakotay’s face, his voice was laced with amusement.

Kathryn hid a smile, then took pity on the woman. Before she could come to her help, the Doctor was already making a beeline for his protégée. That left Chakotay without a partner, and Kathryn decided it was time to have one dance with her first officer. If they weren’t on friendly terms anymore, that did not mean they could not be civil to each other when in public. Besides, she didn’t want the crew to speculate about some potential tension within the command team.

“Tom, would you mind?” she asked.

“Not at all, Captain, and thank you for the dance.” The young man tapped on Chakotay’s shoulder. “Commander, she is all yours.” Tom bowed and was gone in the direction of the orchestra.

Chakotay turned around almost bumping into Kathryn as the crowd pressed them together, and she came face to face with a man she had never seen before. She’d always been one to sniff at tuxedos. Too stuffy, too formal, too…much. But with the black tie matching the silk lapels of his jacket, and the tight-fitting pleated white shirt underneath, the tuxedo and her first officer were a match made in heaven.

He took her breath away.

She'd seen the angry warrior in action, lived with the home maker for a few marvellous months, stood by the hard-nosed tactician on the bridge for days on end. Where had this striking specimen of a man with his broad shoulders and solid body been hiding all those years?

The brooding look he gave her sent a chill down her spine and her pulse racing, but it was too late to retreat from the danger she could see in his eyes. Besides, she wasn’t one to flee. She stood her ground and lifted her chin. The decision was in his hands. That’s what he wanted after all, wasn’t it?

She fully expected him to refuse her offer of a dance. She was duty-bound to insist, for the benefit of the crew of course. He would sneer, say something less than polite about her outfit maybe, and the two of them would radiate enough scorn and contempt to sterilise half of the holodeck.

Instead, without saying a word, he held up his hand.

Against her better judgement, she took it.

Chakotay took the lead with strong arms and sure steps, and she allowed him while keeping her body at half an arm’s length. She could almost think she was dancing with somebody else if she didn’t count his warm hand at her waist bringing her closer to him, and the smell of his fragrance. Earthy, with a hint of crackling fire and lingering smoke, like what she could glance in his eyes. The man could not only wear a tux, but he had chosen a perfume which fitted him like a glove tonight. A heady combination which left her senses spinning. To regain her balance, she turned her face away and kept her gaze on the crowd surrounding them. The music flowed across the room, soft and romantic, a tune she vaguely remembered hearing before, well suited to those black-tie events.

He still had not spoken, and she didn’t feel like starting another awkward conversation. In a few minutes, their ordeal would be over. Tuvok was waiting for her, and she would take the opportunity to leave the party after dancing with him as promised. There were manifests to check, crew rosters to sign, reports to read—

The fast bongo drum roll and sharp high-pitch trombones exploded in the air. Happy cheers rose from the crowd, and the quick tempo of the rhumba sent everybody around them into a swirl of legs and arms. With a sigh of relief, Kathryn took a couple of steps back, fully intent in walking off the dance floor.

Instead of letting her go, Chakotay held tight onto her fingers, looking at her like he was seeing her the first time. His eyes travelled the length of her, from the tip of her high heel shoes to the top of her hair held high for the occasion, and under his close inspection, she froze. His gaze rested for what felt like eons on the legs hidden under the thin, almost see-through fabric; the tilt of her hip she accentuated ever so slightly before catching herself; the flat stomach instinctively drawn in. Her décolletage which was hardly worth the name.

In less than three seconds, he had undressed her, his grin widening, and she found herself regretting to have gone for the more demure look. She was seriously over-dressed, the heat settling on her bare shoulders.

He reeled her towards him in a quick move, her back coming to rest against his chest. “Enjoying what you are seeing, Commander?” she managed to say. Too many conflicting emotions were competing for her attention. Should she stay? Leave? What did he want?

“Oh, very much so, Captain,” he said in her ear, his warm breath sliding down her neck and doing nothing to cool her skin.

Breaking contact, she spun around to face him. He was looking at her with something else than anger and contempt in his eyes. Something dangerous and not quite in control anymore. He beckoned her with a small ‘come-on’ gesture. “Dance, Kathryn. Dance with me.” Forgetting who she was and where she was, she accepted the summons. She lifted the hem of her dress and swayed towards him.

There was just enough room for the two of them to come apart and back together again to the swift rhythm of the music, clearing space around them like the two white stars that had lit the galaxy for so long before they'd joined into something new and wondrous.

And man, could he dance. There was no hesitation in his movements, no awkwardness, just the gracefulness of a man who had learnt from the best, and she certainly didn’t want to know who had taught him how to move like that. He always knew where she was, never letting her stray far from him. Always there to catch her and drag her back to him with the merest of touches. This man was pure attraction, his pull overwhelming.

Her back to Chakotay, she moved down almost to her heels before climbing up again, her buttocks brushing against the front of his trousers. His breath hitched. She tugged at her hair to let the strands fall, before turning her around in his arms to face him once more. That look was on her again, seeing straight through her walls.

The music and people faded in the background. She put her hand at the nape of his neck, bringing his face towards hers. His hands pressed against her back, his lips ravenous against hers.

Heat spread through her, and where too many times in the darkness of her quarters she had imagined kissing Chakotay would feel like an explosion of all her senses, she melted from the inside instead. Overwhelmed, she moaned in his mouth, and if it had not been for his arms wrapped around her, she might have dropped to the holodeck floor, taking him with her for all of eternity.

**⁂**

Chakotay leaned his forehead against hers while their breathing evened. She was the woman whose heat and passion could not be denied as hard as he’d tried to. Whose recklessness he had to embrace and hold tight, and on any other occasion temper, but not now. Not tonight.

He put his hands on her upper arms and pushed her away from him, not too gently. “What do you need from me, Kathryn? Because I won’t let you bask in your pleasure just for you to fall for the next bright and shiny thing flying past the prow. I won’t go back in the shadows.”

“I’m tired of finding myself standing alone at the end of every dance, Chakotay. I need you close to me every hour of the day. With me,” she said, her eyes bright with expectation. A cloud came over her face when he did not release her. “If that’s what you want,” she added.

_I want…_

He almost said ‘you’, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t just about her, or him. And it wasn’t about wants. He went in deeper, to the core of who they could become.

He brought her back into his arms. “Us. I need us. I want us. Together. As one.”

She smiled, and they found each other again while the music soared around them.

**⁂**

In the wake of the ship, Shiva, the cosmic dancer, spun and swirled, oblivious to the fate of the people who had borne witness to its birth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ball scene is unashamedly borrowed from the 1999 version of _The Thomas Crown Affair_ movie.

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to MiaCooper for her beta a long time ago. Then I changed the whole thing, didn’t I!  
> BlackVelvet42 picked up the pieces with her usual gusto. And I had to change a few more things…


End file.
